


Red

by conceptstage



Series: Single Chapter Critical Role [42]
Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-27
Updated: 2019-04-27
Packaged: 2020-02-07 09:29:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,108
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18617848
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/conceptstage/pseuds/conceptstage
Summary: Beauweek Saturday prompt: Cobalt SoulBeau's first real day at Cobalt Soul. At first she hates it. Then, afterwards, she still hates it, but there might be something to this place.





	Red

She hates the blue on principle.

She doesn’t think about how it used to be her favorite color.

Blue is shit. It’s always been shit. 

She frowned at her reflection in the mirror and undid her sash, letting her vestments hang loosely. She liked this better. It was as close to rebellion as she could manage in a place like this. She’d gone her first two nights here without dinner as punishment and her fingers were already shaking from hunger. She could run later, first she needed to survive that long.

Today was her first day with the other monks. She’d been put in solitary for breaking one of the higher monks’ nose. Apparently that kind of thing was frowned upon in this establishment. 

She huffed and pulled on the too-tight collar of her shirt. She wasn’t entirely sure why she needed a uniform just to stack books anyway. She looked over her shoulder at the other young monks in the barracks. They were shuffling in the pink morning light coming in through the single window, getting dressed without a care that their peers would see them. One of the girls her age caught her eye and gave her a reassuring smile but didn’t try to talk to her. Maybe it was the scowl that her mouth was twisted up into. Maybe it was the shiner on her left eye. Maybe it was the blush on her cheeks, because she’d literally just seen that girl’s bare, muscular back. Either way, Beau cleared her throat awkwardly and started following the others down to the mess hall.

The breakfast was minimal. A hard boiled egg and half a piece of toast with a cup of water. She already missed the big, luxurious breakfasts that Mindy would make for her. She missed Mindy in general, the older woman had been her nursemaid when she was younger and was probably the only adult that had never let her down. 

She shoved the entire peeled egg in her mouth but took her time with the unbuttered toast, tearing it apart and eating it in pieces. Her seatmates kept trying to meet her eyes kindly but she pointedly avoided them until they stopped. They seemed disappointed but they wouldn’t have been if they knew shit about her. She wasn’t someone worth getting to know anyway.

She listened silently as the higher monk explained the library. It wasn’t fucking difficult, she thought, though she swallowed the salt and just didn’t say anything. With any luck, she wouldn’t be here long. She’d sneak out the window and hitchhike south. Maybe go to the Menagerie Coast. She’d always wanted to see the ocean.

It was near noon when one of the monks her age wandered over, sweaty with a cut over his eyebrow and breathing hard. “Beauregard, right?” he asked.

Beau sneered at him, looking him up and down before turning back to the books in her arms. “What?”

“It’s your turn.”

She paused and turned back to him with a raised eyebrow. “Turn? Turn for what?”

“I was told to fetch you for training.”

“Training? What kind of fucking training?” How much training did being a librarian require exactly? It wasn’t fucking rocket surgery. 

“Oh, I forgot it was your first day. Head down that hallway, down stairs. The training room you’ll be in is at the end of the hall.”

Beau frowned but sat the books down on the cart. She walked down the hallway and down the stairs to another, longer hallway. She passed by several rooms and heard grunts and battle cries through the doors. What kind of fucking library is this? Overcome by curiosity, she continued down to the end of the hall and the only open door.

There was an older halfling woman inside, wrapping her knuckles with white tape. She looked up sternly when Beau stepped inside. “You’re late. Shut the door.”

Beau sneered and did no such thing. “What the fuck is going on? I’m not doing anything until someone tells me why the fuck a bunch of librarians need a secret fighting dungeon,” she snapped.

The gnome tossed her the tape and showed her her hands. “Do yours like mine. We’ll get started. And shut the door,” she said again. Beau huffed and was defiant for a moment, but realised that she wasn’t going to get answers this way. She sighed and rolled her eyes but shut the door and started wrapping her knuckles. The gnome looked over her wrappings and clicked her tongue is disapproval. “Sloppy. Start over.”

Beau growled and tore the tape from her hands, dropping it onto the ground. “What the fuck does it matter?”

Still, she didn’t answer. “Wrap down your wrist as well.”

Beau crossed her arms over her chest and sat down, putting the roll of tape under her ass and glaring at the halfling. “I’m not doing another goddamn thing until I get some fucking answers.”

The halfling stared at her with her hands on her hips, until eventually she began to smirk reluctantly. “I can tell you’re going to be fun. The monks of the Cobalt Soul are no mere librarians, Beauregard, though the profession is one to be respected in it’s own right. We’re a monastic order dedicated to learning truths and uncovering falsehoods.”

“Then what’s with the fighting?”

“The truth is often times stubborn and hidden behind many guards.”

Beau stared at her for a moment, trying to find a lie in her eyes, but seeing none. She pulled the roll of tape out from under her and started wrapping her hands, glancing at the halfling’s to try and match it. “I don’t understand,” she said. “My father didn’t say anything about this.”

The halfling shrugged. Beau wasn’t sure how much she knew about Beau’s situation. “It’s entirely possible that he doesn’t know. We don’t exactly broadcast it.”

The thought of that thrilled her. Her father had sent her here expecting them to douse her wild nature, but here they were about to teach her to kick ass. She grinned as she imagined the exact color of angry red that his face would turn if he found out about this.

The monk looked over her wrapped hands once more and nodded in approval. “You can be taught. Good. Now, copy my stance. Keep your hands up, thumb outside your fist.”

That evening, when Beau was standing back in front of the mirror in the barracks, sore but feeling good, she looked down at the blood stained blue vestments hanging loosely open and found that she didn’t so much mind the blue when it was covered in red.


End file.
